


Undone

by Alexandria (heartfullofelves)



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Gen, Partners in Crime, Post-Episode: s01e06 Smells Like Teen Spirit, Self-Preservation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-04
Updated: 2019-03-04
Packaged: 2019-11-09 03:07:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17993684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heartfullofelves/pseuds/Alexandria
Summary: Michael and Isobel react to the truth coming out.





	Undone

The truth was out. Michael had kept the secret for 10 years, and now he’d told Isobel the truth. Her devastation was obvious – and understandable. He couldn’t imagine what it must be like to discover you’d murdered three people a decade ago. And yet, as he’d told her, a burden had slipped from his shoulders. He felt relieved.

Until he saw how much the truth was hurting her. Now the burden lay on Isobel’s shoulders, after all these years of trying to protect her from it. Guilt settled over him all over again.

When his phone buzzed with a notification, he grimaced to see Max’s name pop up. Still, he read the text as Isobel chewed on her thumbnail, probably ruining her manicure.

He swore.

She looked up. “What is it?”

His eyes were stormy as he looked at her. “He’s told Liz. He’s told her everything.”

She shrank back in her chair. “No,” she whispered. “Liz doesn’t just want to know the truth about Rosa’s death; she wants justice. I’ll be – we’ll _all_ be arrested, Michael.”

“Yeah,” he spat. “I know, Isobel, our covers are blown. So much for being ordinary.” He kicked at an empty beer bottle on the ground. It made a satisfying clink.

Clutching the blanket around her shoulders, she approached him. “Let’s leave,” she said, sounding calmer now, more like herself.

“The three of us? Cos that’ll scream ‘guilty’.” He scowled.

“No.” She shook her head. “Just you and me. Max is a deputy, he can’t just up and leave without causing suspicion. But with us gone, it’ll be his word against Liz’s. There’s no evidence.” It sounded like she was thinking on the spot, but her reasoning could’ve been worse.

“So?”

“I just br-broke up with Noah—” her voice wobbled “—so if the two of us run, it’ll look like we eloped.”

They both pulled a face.

“Gross.”

“I know.”

Michael sighed. “There’s meant to be a storm coming tomorrow afternoon. If we leave first thing in the morning, we can get ahead of the police. Or Liz. Whoever’s scarier.”

“Yeah. Michael?”

“What?” He frowned.

She took his hand in the first affectionate gesture she’d shown him since they were kids. “None of this is ideal, I know that. But if she goes to the police, I can’t mind warp the whole town to think I’m innocent.”

“That’d be too easy.” He gave her a sad smile and squeezed her hand before dropping it. “C’mon. You go rest while I pack some shit.”

She nodded, walking over to his Airstream and opening the door.

“And don’t lecture me about the state of my sheets,” he called after her.

Sometimes he used Isobel’s washing machine when he needed to do laundry, but he hadn’t wanted to come into her perfect domestic space this week. It wasn’t so much he hadn’t wanted to invade her and Noah’s house so much as he couldn’t stomach the reminder of their happiness and stability.

He sighed as the trailer door closed behind her. He’d put a few things in the truck now, and then he’d sleep in one of the patio chairs lying around. In the morning he’d wake Isobel and pack up everything inside his trailer. Well, not everything – it’d be best to leave the bulk of his shit behind, so it didn’t look like he’d run away for good.

He’d need clothes, and he’d need to take all his alien paraphernalia with him. But he’d probably have to leave all the photos and other shit that made the trailer more like a home. His heart panged at the thought of leaving behind the one photo he had of Alex, that one of the two of them and their guitars. But if he had to choose between his and Isobel’s safety and a beautiful yet painful memento, he’d choose safety every time.

* * *

The wind picked up some time before dawn, waking Michael. He could feel the drop in the air pressure and knew the storm would arrive much earlier than was forecast. Standing up so fast he almost fell over, he rushed inside the Airstream.

“Iz, wake up!” he said, grabbing some bags and boxes and throwing stuff into them.

She groaned. “What time is it?” She sat up, rubbing her eyes.

“Time to leave.” He threw a box at her. “Empty that drawer there.”

They raced to pack up his home into just a few bags and boxes, leaving some of his personal items behind. He tore down his sketches and equations and buried them in the bottom of one of his bags.

“What about this?” Isobel peered at his keepsake box.

“Junk. Leave it.” He spoke too quickly perhaps, but it could be explained away by their very real hurry. “Ready to go?”

They grabbed everything and put it in the back of the truck. Michael found a tarp and some bungee cords, and together they covered his belongings, Isobel coming through even in her emotional distress. He’d appreciated her competence that night 10 years ago, and he appreciated it now.

When they were done, he moved to get in the truck, but she didn’t join him.

“I have to get dressed,” she said.

He scoffed, and held out his arms, gesturing at the weather. “Like hell you do. We have to get going, now.”

“Give me one minute,” she insisted, taking the bag Noah had left her. “I’m not going on the run in my nightdress.”

“One minute,” Michael called out as she ran back inside the Airstream. “And then I’m leaving, with or without you.”

She slammed the door behind her.

Shaking his head, he got in the truck, switching on his lights and letting the engine warm up. He got out his phone, checking the time as he waited for Isobel. It was 3:10 AM. He wasn’t kidding about that minute; the wind would only get worse, and he didn’t want to get stuck in the mud if it rained.

True to her word, Isobel reappeared on time. Somehow, she still looked glamorous, although her cheeks were wet as she clambered into the passenger seat.

“Are you crying?” he asked.

She glared at him. “It’s starting to rain. Have you talked to Max?” She pointed at the phone in Michael’s hand.

“No. Why?”

She sighed. “Hand it over.”

He gave her the phone. “What are you doing?”

“I’m telling Max that we’re fleeing to Albuquerque.”

“Is that where we’re going?” He frowned. They hadn’t settled on a destination, having been so caught up in the race against time. If their run from the law went like this the whole way, they’d be in trouble.

She smothered the phone with her hands, covering the microphones. “No, genius,” she hissed. “I thought about this before I fell asleep. Mexico.”

“How—”

She cut him off. “I’m a lawyer. I know things. I know people.”

He sighed. “You sure about this? It’s not too late to change your mind.”

Looking him in the eye, she said, “I’m certain. Now I’m going to leave this phone behind and we’re going to drive away.” She ran out and dropped off the phone.

“Hey, that was expensive,” he said when she got back. But he put the truck into gear and turned around in the driveway anyway.

“Your phone’s a treasure trove of data,” she said, not at all apologetic as she pulled the seatbelt over herself. “They could track us before we got anywhere near the border. For a criminal, you’re a terrible fugitive.”

Gritting his teeth, he had to admit she was right. She was always right; it was infuriating. He turned on the radio as he pulled out of the junkyard, both wind and rain pelting the truck. The clock read 3:15 AM. It was going to be a long day.

**Author's Note:**

> I'd love to make some new fandom friends :D Add me on Dreamwidth - I'm [fucktheg0ds](http://fucktheg0ds.dreamwidth.org/). As well as fic, I've also posted an RNM playlist and some icons.


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